


Rushing By

by donniedont



Series: The Molinaro-Blaiddyd Clan [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Horseback Riding, Kid Fic, M/M, Mischief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 12:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20874203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/donniedont/pseuds/donniedont
Summary: When sneaking off with a horse doesn't go according to plan, Damin, the oldest of the Molinaro-Blaiddyd children, has to have a tough conversation with his dad, Dimitri.  For and based off of Ha_neul's original characters!





	Rushing By

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ha_neul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ha_neul/gifts).

> This fic was made possible by Cal, who created delightful kids for Dedue and Dimitri! You can read and get visuals for them [here](https://toyhou.se/carvaels/characters/folder:981495)! I love them dearly and I'm so grateful that Cal let me write them. 
> 
> There aren't any real spoilers in this fic outside of the fact that it's another amorphous "future in which Dimitri is king." It should also be noted that there is a lot of multiple people riding on one horse, which research tells me isn't the best practice. You can chalk it up to "no one was riding the horses for too long" or "Fire Emblem horses are different and can handle it." Thank you for taking the time to read this!

The royal stables are at capacity, each stall occupied by beautiful horses. Many of them are owned by the king, his husband, and their three children. The story went that outside of his own horse, King Dimitri took brief vacations in order to search throughout the Kingdom for the best horses for each member of his family. Once or twice every spring the king will cancel his appointments, citing that he wished to spend the day riding with his family. No one fights the king on these matters, as they know he will refuse to budge on matters relating to his family.

It’s a pretty nice story. As the eldest child of the family, Damin knows much of this information to be true. He got to help pick out his little sister’s pony the year before, a trip that featured him watching his dad try to explain to each breeder that yes, they were the king and prince. There was no political agenda with this trip. Please, no need to fret about using quality tea cups or sprucing up the stable in an inauthentic way.

Damin always feels weird being out in public with his dad. While his skin color is more like his papa’s, he has his dad’s eye color and hair color, which usually confirms that he is indeed the prince. His dad hardly wears his crown, but people figure out pretty quickly that the tall man with an eye patch that favors the color blue is the king. Once they do, they become obsessed with overcompensating. His dad tries to tell people they don’t have to, but they don’t seem to believe him.

It’s a level of attention that Damin is hoping he can escape at the Officer’s Academy. The whole place was reopened several years ago and Damin is excited to go to the same school that his parents, aunts, and uncles attended. Even so, he wonders if this will result in him being lonely. He already dreads the first time he closes the door of his dorm room and realizes that his parents and siblings are not going to storm in to bother him.

This morning, he’s alone, because he wants to be. He’s on a mission and it’s something that he has to see through alone. He starts by making his way toward the kitchen, greeting the staff by name like his parents expect him to. 

“Good morning, Prince Damin,” the head chef greets, “How can I help you?”

“Do you have any apples I can grab?” he asks.

“Oh, yes,” the chef replies. She walks away for a moment before she comes back with two. 

“Thanks,” he replies, bowing his head slightly. He stuffs one in his pocket and takes a bite out of the other as he makes his way toward the stables.

The plan is to take his papa’s horse out for a ride. He’s pretty sure he’ll be able to pull it off. His parents are running an early morning public forum, which should hopefully keep them occupied for the next few hours. The staffing at the castle is a skeleton crew, allowing as many employees to attend as possible. He got out of it by citing that he’s leaving soon. He’s going to be so busy at the academy, he’ll never be able to sleep in! He should be able to have a morning to himself. Somehow, neither of his parents fought him on it.

He says hello to the stablehand and greets his own horse, a handsome chestnut stallion with a white blaze down his face. “Hey, Sunny,” he says as the horse walks closer to him. Damin looks down at the partially eaten apple in his hand and hums. “Hold on,” he says. He grabs the dagger at his side and cuts out the part he’s eaten, passing the rest to his horse. “Sorry, bud,” he says, “I would give you a whole one, but I’m saving it for Marigold.”

Sunny doesn’t appear to mind. He seems content enough munch on his apple and receive some scritches. He has to make sure that he gives him a good ride later. He slowly walks away from Sunny’s stall, approaching the stall in the corner. He takes the apple out of his pocket and waits expectantly, saying, “C’mon, Marigold…”

He watches the massive horse make her way around toward him, her eyes focused on the apple. He raises it up toward her, keeping his palm flat as she lips it and gently takes it from his hand. He gives her the same amount of pets, watching her carefully to figure out where she liked being pet. 

Apparently, Marigold was a difficult horse to find. It was a story Damin heard for the first time when he went traveling with his dad during their hunt for his sister’s pony. Some of the struggle was in the logistics of the whole thing. Damin’s papa is a tall man, taller than most people in the kingdom aside from when Duscur representatives are visiting. As much as Damin dreams of being as tall as him, he still isn’t even past his dad’s shoulders. Whenever he complains about it, his parents reassure him that he may have another growth spurt to close the gap. He just doesn’t know how long he should wait until he gives up. He wonders if it might be for the best that he’s short. At least it means he doesn’t have to worry about finding a horse large enough for him to ride. 

According to his dad, it was one thing to find a horse large enough for Damin’s papa, but he also wanted a horse with the perfect temperament for him. “I think I knew he would want the horse to be more of a companion than anything else,” his dad admitted, rubbing at his eye. It was late for both of them, but Damin didn’t want to go to bed. He was finally feeling like he was talking to his dad like a person and he didn’t want it to end. 

Marigold was found when his dad was trailing back to the castle, ashamed that he couldn’t find a horse that was the best fit for his future husband. “Your Uncle Sylvain can speak to how inconsolable I was,” his dad admitted. Damin has never quite figured out how to bring it up with his uncle, but he wants to one of these days. Marigold was spotted in a field that was up against the road. Her very overwhelmed owners explained that she was from a hearty stock of draft horses, resulting in her large size and sweet temperament with a hair color only a shade or two different from the blond Damin inherited from his dad. 

“Your papa probably doesn’t want me revealing this,” his dad added, covering his mouth as he yawned, “but when I presented Marigold in Duscur regalia to him, he wept.”

It tracked well enough to Damin. His papa doesn’t cry much, a sharp contrast to his dad, but when he does it’s usually over good things. He’s heard consistently from his dad, aunts, and uncles that this wasn’t always the case. Damin is glad that he does not know that version of his papa.

Even with all the love surrounding Marigold, she doesn’t get ridden much. She is by no means a waste, but it sounds like his dad could have gotten a dog and had it be a better fit. 

The circumstances aside, Marigold deserves a good ride before he leaves. Especially when he isn’t sure she will get another one until he comes back for a break from school.

“It’s going to be fun,” he promises her, smiling as she flicks her long ears. He knows the ride is not going to be the most comfortable for him, but hopefully it’ll break up her routine of hanging out in her stall and grazing in a field. He grabs her saddle and reins, humming to himself. He hears footsteps shuffling along the dirt leading toward the stables and he stops, looking up. Standing in the doorway are his siblings, their arms crossed and mischievous grins on their faces.

“Oh!” he exclaims, “Hey, Inyoung! Ilya!” He smiles and hopes that it covers up that he is definitely been found out.

“What are you doing with Marigold’s saddle?” Inyoung asks.

Damin looks down at the one in his hands. Not only is Marigold’s saddle massive, but the leather detailing was done by an artisan from Duscur. It’s not difficult to figure out who it belongs to. “Must have grabbed it by mistake!” he chirps. “I better go grab Sunny’s saddle…”

Inyoung and Ilya flank him, shuffling around him to make sure he is stuck in place. 

“You’re totally taking Marigold out, aren’t you?” Inyoung asks. 

Damin makes a panicked noise from the back of his throat. Inyoung cackles. “I _ knew _ it!” she exclaims.

“We’re gonna tell Papa!” Ilya jeers.

“No, no, Ilya! Eyes on the prize!” Inyoung scolds her. “Papa will just make him tend to the garden or whatever. We’re gonna tell _ Dad _.”

Damin feels his shoulders raise. He can’t waste another afternoon getting yelled at by his dad. “What are your terms?” he asks.

“You take us with you,” Inyoung says. Ilya nods excitedly.

Damin looks at Marigold, her head still sticking out of her stall. “Will we all fit?” he wonders out loud. Ilya is still tiny, but Inyoung is already past Damin’s shoulders, even if she’s three years younger than him. Marigold is definitely big enough to handle all three of them, but he can’t see them able to ride her for long.

“Well?” Ilya asks expectantly.

“All right. We can at least see if we all fit,” he says, sighing. He continues to prep Marigold, grateful that the other two are willing to help. He understands that he is accepting help from people who blackmail him, but he also knows that he has pulled similar moves and will probably continue to do so in the future. When Marigold is prepped, they help each other on, finding themselves struggling even with a stepstool to help them get on .

Once they are settled, Damin is at the front, Ilya is bouncing up and down excitedly in the middle, and Inyoung is at the back, her hands placed at Ilya’s sides.

“_ Do not _ let go of me,” Damin tells Ilya. Ilya nods her head as he faces forward, only beginning to move Marigold when he feels her arms wrapped around his waist. 

Marigold starts walking and he finds himself more at ease. There’s a tightness that develops nearly instantly in his legs, but she seems pretty responsive, considering her lack of use. She doesn’t seem bothered by having three kids on her back. Not wanting to push his luck, he makes sure to stay on the trails close to the stables. 

“Go faster!” Ilya demands.

“Yeah, what’s the hold up?” Inyoung asks.

Damin rolls his eyes and adjusts his heels, getting Marigold to go faster. They all gasp, bouncing higher than any of them are used to. 

After several minutes, Ilya demands that they go even faster. Damin indulges, Marigold going along with it. Ilya laughs as all three of them launch even higher into the air. When the bouncing doesn’t seem to ease up, they all begin to make panicked noises. 

“Hey, Min?” Inyoung asks, “Should we--_ ugh _\--should we slow down?”

“Yeah, hold on,” Damin says, trying to look ahead of the trail. He sees them approaching a dark, twisted shadow on the path. It’s peculiar enough that he wonders if it could spook Marigold. He tries to redirect her, but it’s too late. She stops short, all three of them lurching forward as she begins to stomp frantically. 

“Steady, steady…” he keeps repeating until it doesn’t even feel like a word anymore. All his years of horseback riding lessons and long trips with Uncle Sylvain seem to be just out of reach. All he can think about is the growing fear that any of them, including Marigold, could get hurt. 

He shuts his eyes and begins to cry. He feels Marigold lurch beneath him and he’s ready for her to buck, but he never flies off. When he opens his eyes he sees his dad in front of Marigold, one hand on her bridle and another hand firmly holding her in place. “I got them,” he says to someone behind them. Damin turns around and sees his papa sliding off of his dad’s horse. His eyes are wide as he closes the gap between them, calmly plucking Inyoung and Ilya off the horse. They cling to him instantly, Inyoung wrapping her arms around his neck and Ilya latching onto his shoulder as they begin to wail. His papa calmly smooths their hair and whispers reassurances to them.

When Damin faces his dad again, he finds himself locking eyes with his dad’s lone blue one. It almost looks like it’s glowing, an intensity that is typically was reserved for actual threats. His dad breaks eye contact first, grabbing him by his sides and roughly removing him from Marigold. Damin feels his legs wobble and he reaches out toward his dad, but his dad is already walking toward Inyoung and Ilya. Damin crosses his arms, staring at his feet while his dad hugs Inyoung and Ilya. 

“Let me take Inyoung and Ilya back to the stables with Marigold,” his papa says. Damin looks up and watches his papa get up and reach toward him. He lets himself be embraced by his papa, but makes no effort to hug back. “I’m glad you’re safe,” his papa says before he lets go. 

“We don’t have to ride Marigold back, do we?” Ilya asks.

“Yeah, surely she’s tired of lifting everybody!” Inyoung adds.

“No, we’ll walk her.” Damin watches his papa grab Marigold’s reins and lead her back toward the stables, Inyoung and Ilya staying close to him. “See you back at the stables,” he says.

Damin turns to his dad again and winces when he sees that his face is unchanged. He’s still dressed in the outfit he wore to the public forum. His blue boots he reserves for special occasions have splatters of mud across them. His dad grabs the reins of his own horse, saying, “Get on. You and I are going to have a talk.”

Damin nods, surprised that his dad still takes time to help him up on the horse. He feels his body ache going back into a riding position, but he knows better than to complain.

His dad glides on, taking the reins and charging further down the trail. Damin buries his face into his back, not even caring that his earring was getting snagged on his dad’s cape. He occasionally wills himself to watch his dad ride. The only thing that is a bit unorthodox about his riding style is the way he moves his head to compensate his missing eye. 

They eventually stop and when Damin allows himself to focus, he sees that they have reached a clearing. They wordlessly hitch the horse to a tree and take a seat under a shadier spot.

“Tell me what happened,” his dad asks, “I wish to hear it from your perspective.”

Damin finally allows himself to look at his dad’s face again. The glow in his eye has disappeared and he just appears absolutely exhausted. He readjusts the strap of his eye patch and smooths it out. It’s blue with white flowers embroidered on the edge. Aunt Mercedes made it for his birthday last year.

“I wanted to ride Marigold,” Damin explains, “I just… I dunno. Papa never rides her, so I figured I could…”

His dad nods. “And Inyoung and Ilya?”

“They caught me. I let them come with…” He considers revealing that they were blackmailing him, but it feels ridiculous owning up to the fact that a twelve year old and a nine year old were able to pull that off. 

His dad leans against the back of the tree, taking a deep breath. Damin is old enough to know that his dad doesn’t sleep. It used to be a blessing for all three kids, especially when they had nightmares and wanted to have someone keep them company until they fell back to sleep. But now Damin realizes that it just makes his dad perpetually exhausted. It’s the only thing he can read from his dad’s body language. He’s probably tired of Damin pulling this type of stuff.

“Look, if you’re pissed off at me you can just yell at me,” Damin suggests.

“You see my speaking to you as me yelling at you?” his dad asks.

“Well, yeah,” Damin admits, “You kind of yell at me all the time.” He waits for his dad to do just that, but he continues to stare, his mouth shut. “I know when I screw up, Dad. I don’t need to have you run a lecture about how awful I am afterwards.”

“That is not my intention at all…” his dad starts.

“Yeah, but it’s how it comes off,” Damin counters. It feels weird going against his dad like this, but it’s way easier for him now that they aren’t surrounded by thrones and castle walls. “Look, Ilya is a kid. I get why she doesn’t get yelled at all that much. But Inyoung has picked fights with people and you basically let her get away with it. It really sucks.”

His dad’s eye appears glassy. He rubs at the corner of it and wipes his finger along his pants.

Damin sighs. “Look, Dad, I know you love me. But it makes it kind of makes the whole thing hurt worse because of it.”

His dad nods. “Permission to speak?” he asks.

“Well, you’re the king, so…” Damin snaps. He shakes his head. “Sorry. You can.”

“I’m sorry that you feel that way,” his dad says, “I do believe that it’s possible that your papa and I have put an unfair amount of pressure on you. My only explanation… which is by no means an excuse… is that I think your papa and I are just not really sure what it’s like to be, well. A typical teenager.”

Damin considers teasing him about being old, but he resists. He knows what his dad is trying to say. By the time his parents were sixteen, they had lost nearly everything outside of each other. They rarely talk about it with him, but he’s had enough history lessons mention the Tragedy of Duscur to fill in the blanks. 

“Look,” Damin says, “The thing with Marigold was totally my fault. I shouldn’t have done it and I especially shouldn’t have brought Inyoung and Ilya along.” 

“Thank you for your apology,” his dad says, “And I want to apologize for providing preferential treatment toward Inyoung and Ilya. I will speak with your papa and try to come up with a solution to this. But for now, I think it’s best that we head back.”

“Yeah,” Damin says, “Uh, thanks for that, Dad.”

His dad leans forward, pulling Damin in and hugging him close. Damin relaxes against him, trying his best to hug him back. They pull away, his dad smiling at him before they return to his dad’s horse. They ride in relative silence for a long while, until his dad turns toward him and gives him a gentle smile before he says, “We should do something together before you leave. Let me know if you have any ideas. I’ll cancel whatever meetings I have for it.”

“You would do that?” Damin asks.

“Of course,” his dad replies. “I assume you won’t want Papa or me visiting much once you’re at the academy.”

Damin wraps his arms tighter around his dad, pressing his face into his back. 

“_ What _?” his dad asks, “I distinctly remember you saying something to the effect of ‘It’s bad enough everyone will figure out I’m a prince! If you show up you’ll just cause a scene!’” His dad turns toward him, giving him a playful grin. 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss everybody,” he mumbles. 

His dad takes one of his hands and reaches behind him to awkwardly pat at Damin’s arm. “Of course not. But what’s good about your situation is that we are never too far away. You will always have a home to return to.”

Damin nods against his back. “You’re right,” he says into his back. 

They chat idly for the rest of the trip back to the stables. They arrive to the sight of Damin’s papa laying on a blanket in the sun, reading a book. His dad passes the reins off to Damin as he hops off his horse and joins Damin’s papa. They kiss and embrace each other, staying close as his papa turns toward him and says, “Inyoung and Ilya are on stable duty. Each stall must be approved by staff before they can move onto the next one.”

Right on cue, Inyoung yells, “Wait, it’s _ still _ not good enough?!”

“It sounds like they require your assistance,” his dad notes. “Rub down Thistle and join them, will you?”

Damin sighs, but he can’t help but smile. “Yeah, sure,” he says. He gets off his dad’s horse and takes in the sight of his parents leaning against each other, talking quietly. He hears Inyoung’s grousing get louder as she and Ilya leave the stables to get more hay. It’s not quite where he expected his day to go, but he’s grateful for it. 


End file.
